Of Sunlight and Gunpowder
by ILoveYouDearly
Summary: A series of drabbles surrounding a broken Roy Mustang who relishes in the memory and clings to the hope that one day Riza Hawkeye will return to him. (RoyxRiza) (Slightly AU)
1. His Personal Sun

**Authors Note:** These are drabbles, there's no real plot line just so everyone knows. This is attempt to start writing again. The various "chapters" will alternate between memory and present tense for Roy. Nothing will be in chronological order either, so please don't get confused. :) Rated high for later chapters that are already written but not ready to come to play. Enjoy.

* * *

He made sure not to wake her.

She slept soundly in her bed, rolled out on her side, curled against the pillow she swaddled between her knees but still somehow held to her heart. Her breath came out in a whisper, in and out through her nose, and her hair –usually tidy and pulled to the back of her head now lay sprawled out behind her, covering the white sheet below her in golden rays like the sun.

His personal sun.

_His_.

Well, Roy noted in his mind, _not _his. But rather, a companion. It was the only title he could give her. The woman who had stood beside him for so many years, who had dealt with all of his ramblings, all of his bull-headedness, all of his heartache and turmoil and just down right _meanness. _How many nights after losing his eye did she stir him awake with her frantic voice and soft hands, as he lay moaning and screaming and tearing his chest, wishing to free himself from the demons that lay such havoc upon his heart? The memory of Ishval, particularly, leaving him with the taste of metallic in his mouth when he awoke and a drumming in his head.

He watched her, watched her breath and face, noticing the faint pink shimmer on her eyelids. She had been on a date that night – a date! Not with him of course, but some lanky man from the remote military outpost they had come to. He was blonde and had the accent of some romance novel. He had made Roy's skin crawl when he asked Riza to dinner earlier that day, made him even sicker when she replied with a soft, 'yes'.

He hadn't the heart to tease her as she got ready, even though the old Roy Mustang – the Mustang who was a womanizer and had the hope of a nation in his hand – would have done so mercilessly. Instead, he sat on his bed of the hotel room they shared nervously as she got ready in the washroom instead, crossing and recrossing his ankle over his knee, fidgeting like a madman.

When she finally exited the washroom, he only told her that she looked 'nice', when she came out in her best summer dress with her usual neatly kept hair tumbling in waves over her bare shoulders. What he had meant to say is that she was gorgeous, that she was breathtaking, and that his heart lurched in his chest for her and awoke a deep part of him that only she could summon.

But 'nice' tumbled from his lips. And he barely waved a farewell to her when she had left for his mind was swimming with mental kicks in the ass and regret.

Regret. Oh, it sunk into him now, as he watched her sleep. His hands itched to hold her, his body craved the delicious curve of her body against his. He had had many women but he did not want her like he wanted the others – he did not want the roughness and carnal lust. He wanted tenderness, sweetness. It was what she deserved. As much as he ached for her he wanted to feel the weight of her more, feel her soft against his body, feel her smile on his skin.

He wanted to treat her right, hold her hand and give her flowers. He wanted to dance with her and hold her through the night. He wanted to gaze into her eyes and show her that life was not all blood and gore. He wanted to show her that he had changed, that he was no longer the man he was, the man that killed and did anything for power.

He should tell her now, he thought, as she continued to watch her. He should wake her with kisses and the confession of a lifetime. But instead, he felt his legs carry him back to his bed, where he lay on his side with his back facing the only girl he would ever truly love.

The girl who would also prove to be the only person who could ever break him.


	2. The Downpour

"Sir?"

The title was a question, not a formality. He instantly hated the girlish voice speaking to him. It was unlike the gentle, slightly deep voice he was so familiar of. The old Roy would have loved it, taken the slight flirtiness in her tone for granted and screwed her in bed. But not now. Not ever again.

He felt his hands come into fists, wanting the body standing over him to go away, to leave him to his pain and his heartache. He regretted coming into town now although he had left to get away from those walls – painted sunflower yellow – that forced him into constant memory of what he had shared with her – the girl with the deeper voice – _his_ Riza.

Oh, her name felt like an insect bite, bleeding venom into his veins and making him sick with remorse. It had only been two weeks – two weeks since she packed her bags and left him and his broken heart bleeding on their wooden floor. The wooden floor they had danced on, made love on. But it felt like an eternity. Black, empty, and desolate. Who knew how much a man could break? Even when he didn't want to think about her he did.

But now she was only a memory.

"Sir?" the title was spoken again with a bit more earnest. If he still used Alchemy, he would have set the girl on fire.

"What?!" he asked, with a bit more bite than he intended, as he looked up from his lap and mind wandering. He met the ice-blue gaze of a girl probably ten years younger than he, wearing a heavy raincoat was too wildly colored for his liking. Her red hair was pulled into a ponytail at the crown of her head. She had an equally crazy colored umbrella which she carefully perched over them.

"Jeeze, you're the crazy sitting out here in the rain, I just wanted to make sure you were okay," she said with a mild note of annoyance.

Okay? Would he ever be okay again? He half noticed that he was drenched, sitting on some bench in the middle of the town he had lived in for a year but barely knew. He also noted that his mental comment about burning the girl to death would have been in vain, for, he'd never get a spark to ignite the flame.

He would never feel warmth again.

He stood quickly, so quickly that he nearly knocked the umbrella straight out of the young girl's hand. She yelled something to him but he didn't catch it, as suddenly he was running in the downpour, toward somewhere and or something – he didn't know. He just went.

No, he would never be okay again.

Not unless she returned.


	3. Vases of Flowers

"Who are you to tell me how to live my life?" Riza yelled, her arms close to her sides. She was so angry but so damn beautiful. Roy had to fight the urge to smile.

"I'm telling you that man is not worth your time," he was talking about the snobby blonde that Riza had been seeing for a few months now. Pierre, was his name. Roy had learned it after dozens of flowers had been sent to their shared dwelling, all with cards that had lullabies and stupid rhymes written on them with the disgusting script of his name scrawled below. He had hoped to woo Riza it seemed. But Roy could see through the man's act – for, he had played that game once. Pierre – no matter how genuine he seemed – was not in it for the heart of his once-subordinate, no, he wanted much more than that. And _only_ that.

"How do you possibly know that?" Riza asked in a shout. "He's been nothing but kind to me. In fact, he's been quite a gentleman."

"Has he grabbed your ass yet?" His voice was a deadpan, monotone and serious.

Riza looked instantly taken back.

"A-as if that's ANY of YOUR business!" she said with nearly a stomp, clearly looking around the room for something to throw.

"Oh, that means he has," Roy said with a nod, crossing his arms over his chest and eyeing the blonde from his place at the doorway, where he stood with one shoulder against the frame. He wasn't going to let her leave. Not dressed like she was. She looked _way _too good in that black number, with the pronounced neckline and length that barely reached a quarter way down her thigh. It fit to her curvaceous body like a glove.

No, some man named _Pierre_ didn't deserve to gaze upon such beauty.

"I'm leaving now," Riza announced, barreling for the door.

"If you go to him looking like that, he's going to only want _that_," he gestured to the woman as she walked toward him, high-heels clicking against the floor.

"Roy, this is absolutely none of your business, get out of my way," she said, clearly even more annoyed with him.

"I'm just trying to tell that he's up to no good. No man sends THAT amount of flowers with an intention to just hold your hand." He didn't move from the door. Instead, he stood up straight in it, nearly taking up the entire frame. Riza stopped just in front of him, barely an arm length away. He saw her nostrils flare as she took a deep breath, seemingly steadying herself.

"What if that's what I want, Roy?" she asked, very quietly. "What if I want to be…" she trailed off, "_wanted_? Is that such a terrible thing to desire?"

Oh, Roy had to take a breath to steady himself now, if only he had the courage to tell her. Tell her just how much she was wanted, just how much she was needed. It had been many a moon since that first time he gazed upon her sleeping and he felt that stirring in his heart and he knew his time was ticking. He had been with her for so many years, surely she did not feel the same way about him. Not anymore at least. There was probably a time in which Riza Hawkeye had an eye for him, but how could she now? After all she had seen, had experienced with him? It was utterly hopeless.

But that didn't mean he wouldn't try.

Suddenly feeling very courageous, Roy reached between them, taking the curve of Riza's face in his hands. Her eyes flew wide just as he closed his and removed that space between their faces, between their bodies, and what he hoped would be their hearts.

His lips were gentle against hers, pressing as soft and kind as the love he felt in his heart. He hoped in that moment that she could feel that, that she knew his tenderness, and she understood what words he could not say. Not yet. It had to be perfect. She deserved perfect.

His hopes were dashed when suddenly he felt the hard palm on his cheek, stinging his skin and knocking his mouth from hers. She instantly retreated from him, at least two arm lengths, her chest heaving and her face so flushed it looked as though the sun had burnt her.

"You _bastard_," she hissed, pointing a finger at him and jarring it as she spoke. "Don't you _dare _do this to me if you don't mean it, if you don't really _really_ mean it because," she swallowed hard, wide-eyed and nearly frantic in speech, "I have a really nice guy waiting for me at the coffee house, someone who cares about me and wants me. Wants _me_, Roy. Not a body, but _me_. I will _not_ become a notch on your bedpost. I will _not_ go around nursing a broken heart like all your fan girls do. I will _not _allow you to do that to me. So don't you dare touch me again unless you really want _me_."

Her voice was trembling when she spoke her final sentence.

"If you're lonely, find someone else and let me be happy."

She had every right to be worried, he thought, he was after all infamous Roy Mustang – womanizer of all Artemis. Although he had not had another in the time they had spent together in the last six months, bunked in this dirty hotel room, waiting for orders from military higher up's it was not in Riza's nature to forget. Hell, she had first handedly watched many of his seductions. No wonder she thought that he was just trying to get her into bed with him. No wonder she didn't trust him with her heart.

But she had left it opened ended – not all hope was lost yet. For, she had said for him to not touch her if he didn't mean it – but if he did, then, well, it was implied he could. Hope brightened in his chest in a way that he had never felt before. She hadn't shunned him.

She had given him one choice.

And he boldly took it.

Later that night, when she had changed into pajamas and her lips were swollen from the feverish passion of Roy's mouth, she laid in his arms for the first time. Their legs were intertwined and she curled to his chest with a content sigh.

Things were not perfect, there were still dozens of flowers to throw away in the morning, but Roy, for the first time in many years – was happy.


	4. Of Sunlight and Gunpowder

**Authors Note:** This chapter is one of the reasons for the rating. LEMONS AHEAD. If you don't like it, don't read it. :)

* * *

She smelled like sunlight and gunpowder.

And oh my, was it glorious.

She was curled against him, bare aside from the long shirt she wore, her back to his chest, her bottom pushed against his pelvis. He was still flushed from their experience together earlier in the night, still filled with yearning for her. She had been asleep for an hour or so, while Roy lay there feverishly besides her wanting more and all of her. He loved her so dearly that it made him ache. Ache in ways that he had never ached for another woman. Only her. Forever her.

He had an arm pulled around her, which he sneaked up beneath her shirt and grazed her breasts with soft tenderness. A soft caress, then a gentle knead, there was a soft response from Riza as she mumbled in her sleep. Roy considered this adorable and continued his movements over her other breast, until her nipples rose in response his touch. He took one delicately between his fingers and rolled it experimentally. A soft mew came from the woman, a slight backward motion of her hips into his. He did it again, this time, with a bit more force, and a full moan came from her, her bottom pressing hard against the swell of him. She was awake now and turned onto back to look at him.

"Hi," he said softly, as his hand still on her breasts, kneading and loving them with his fingertips.

She was obviously flushed and her teeth came to bite her lower lip every time he gripped a bit harder on her.

His woman, she loved a little bit of pain with her pleasure.

"I was asleep you know, having a very lovely dream." She said it softly, not sounding at all like she regretted being awoken this way.

"Oh, did you now? What was the dream about?" He asked her, leaning up on the elbow not currently hidden beneath Riza's long shirt.

"You," she replied instantly, although it came out sounding more like an 'oh' as Roy replaced the fingers grazing her nipple with his mouth through her shirt, lightly sucking and then gently biting around the base. Her back instantly arched and her hand came to his hair, grabbing a fistful just at the base of his skull.

"Oh," he said with a small smile, pulling away from her breast long enough to speak and yank the woman's shirt up high enough that it exposed her chest completely, "Why don't you tell me about it?"

"You, um," she started to say, as Roy began to feather kisses all over her breasts, taking gentle care to touch every inch, although, she self-consciously admitted, was quite a task for she was well endowed. "You were doing this."

He took her nipple into his mouth again and was rewarded with a nearly high-pitched squeak.

"What else?" he asked throaty against her skin. Excited to take her on every scene of her dream.

She blushed. She didn't want to tell him. Although they had explored every intimacy, she still felt bashful to say it. There was something different about saying it and doing it.

"Well I don't know," she lied, her next words had a tease to them. "You kind of woke me up in the middle of it, I don't exactly remember."

Roy began to kiss her neck, his hand taking its place back to her breasts, and he found the place – just behind her ear, that he had bruised earlier with his mouth and kisses, knowing it would make the woman squirm.

"I think you do remember," he whispered, feeling his loins ache for her. But he would not push for it until she asked him for it.

Her breath came in heavy intervals now, he could hear it as he sucked on that special part of her neck and played with her breasts. The hand in his hair tugged harder now as her moans became more pronounced and her delicious hips arched off the bed.

"Please," it was the first beg to ever come from Riza Hawkeye's mouth. "Ahh-_Please_."

"Tell me," he whispered again in a half-moan, a bit more urgently this time.

She flushed more, still whimpering because of his mouth and his hands. She was getting desperate, so eager to feel something more than the aching. She wanted him. Wanted him more than she could bare.

She opened her knees, hoping he would take the hint, but his hand still stayed on her breasts.

"Roy I-", she started to say, before he growled, and took the edge of her ear into his mouth and sucked hard, making the woman moan again and again.

"Tell me, Riza," he said, deep and throaty and _so sexy _that the woman could barely stand it.

"Put your fingers inside of me," she said with such an ache in her voice, throwing shyness to the wind. "Please, please… I _need_ it."

The hand that had been on her breasts ghosted down the valley of her stomach, so slow that it built such anticipation in the woman that she boldly grabbed his wrist and pushed his fingers down between her legs. She was instantly rewarded with a heavy moan from the dark haired man.

"Fuck, you're so _wet_," he could barely speak and his fingers swirled around just outside her entrance, feeling the heat coming off of her body. She was basically dripping. It was _amazing._

If she could flush anymore, she would have for his words went through her body like a bolt of lightning, making her body somehow even more sensitive to his touches, making her heart beat even faster. How could she possibly be turned on any more than she was? His words made her feel so sexy, so _desired_. It was hot as all hell.

She tried to push her hips into his hand, to get that friction that she needed so badly, but he evaded her advances, his fingers dancing just out of contact.

"Roy," she almost whined and then shuttered as he used her moistness to circle around her clit, making her body light on fire.

Roy lifted his face from the woman's neck to look at her face, which was beautifully tinted with red and passion. Her hair was sprawled out on the pillow behind her and goodness – was she gorgeous, especially like this, quaking in her desire and overwhelmed by it all. He circled her clit once – twice – three times, watching her face, feeling himself fill impossibly more as her eyes rolled in the back of her head and chest heaved with heavy breath. Oh, he loved to give her pleasure. He loved that she ached for him as much as he did for her.

His fingers slid down her wetness back the entrance, where for one long moment he took his touch far enough away that she couldn't feel him before he slid his fingers into her, feeling the folds of her womanhood stretch to accommodate him all the way to his bottom knuckle. She was slick and hot and so sexy.

"This is what you want?" he asked her, leaning down to catch her lips with his own, tasting the sweat on her mouth, and taking her pants into his own breath. He pushed slow and hard into her with his hand again and again and again. "Is this _all _you want?"

"More," she gulped, as his pace quickened and that much needed friction made her core come alive. She could feel it building, that white hot twist in her abdomen. It was so good but it wasn't enough. It wasn't enough and she knew it. She needed the pounding, she needed the feel of his hips pushing into her own, to know that he was receiving as much pleasure as she felt. She wanted to make love. Quick, hard, fast, and painstakingly beautiful love.

Just as she felt that white hot pressure build so much in her body is could barely hold onto it, she pulled away from Roy, who, in turn pulled back in his own confusion. He was not hurt or dismayed, only confused. Riza, in all their love making, had never really made a motion to change what they did, only move it along. So, he was quite surprised when she suddenly pushed herself up into him, kissing him hard on the mouth, taking his face into both of her hands. She lifted herself up to straddle his middle, turning the man onto his back.

Riza kissed down his chest, moving her body down along his until she was on her knees between his. She stroked his length a few times with her hand before licking the underside from base to tip, making Roy squirm beneath her. He let out a masculine half-moan half-sigh when her mouth took most of the length of him in one motion and her tongue pressed against the underside of it, making delicious friction right in the places he needed it.

It felt so good that Roy bucked his hips into her mouth, just so slightly. Riza let out a little hum that vibrated every inch of him. Dear goodness, he wanted her so bad. To feel her sexy body wrapped around him as she rode him or he pounded into her. Whatever she wanted. He wanted so badly to grab and take her right then and there, but he wanted more for this to be on her terms. But Lord knew, the minute she asked for it, he would give it to her.

Riza continued sucking him, licking him, and basically driving him mad and closer to the brink of orgasm with every motion she made to his manhood. Just when he thought he was going to have to tell her to stop or else risk ending their lovemaking early, the woman stilled her movements and sat up suddenly coming to straddle Roy's pelvis. Before he even knew what was going on, she pushed her wetness against his shaft and took half of him in one thrust.

They both moaned at the same time as Riza settled down the rest of the way until he was so far in her she did not know where she ended and he began. There was just pressure, longing, and white-hot love.

"You certainly aren't messing around tonight, are you?" Roy asked, grinding his hips up into the woman's, making the fit inside her impossibly more tight and pleasurable. She hummed a reply and shook her head, basking in the feeling of him. After a moment she leaned forward onto her forearms, her face just above his and rocked her hips against his shaft, taking him then pulling away, taking him then pulling away. Roy placed either of his hands on her hips, gripping at her flesh but not aiding or taking control, only supporting her and letting her know through his grip when – _fuck _that felt ridiculously good.

She kissed him again, riding his length harder and faster. Her kisses were hungry, passionate, and her teeth more than once came to bite his lower lip, softly but erotically enough that Roy has having one hell of a time controlling his hips; which, a dozen times or so, came to meet Riza's mid-thrust and left her moaning and biting all over again.

After a while, Riza started wanting more than just to take. She wanted to be _taken_. Her orgasm was fast approaching, she could feel it twist blinding hot in her belly, but she needed more. Their love making that always been intense and passionate. But she felt such a need for more than that – she needed it dirty, she needed it _now_.

"Roy," she whispered, still sliding against him, her voice desperate and full of wanting. "I need you to –" she paused not knowing how to phrase it, how to let him know that she desired something outside of their typical love making. "I need you to –"

She moved against him harder to try to get her point across.

Roy was good at taking hints. He knew exactly what she needed and he was more than happy to oblige. He just needed her to say it. He wanted this to be all about her, he wanted her to open up completely.

"Tell me what you need, Riza," he said.

The ache was building so much in her that she couldn't help but say it now, hell, she almost screamed it.

"I need you to _fuck_ me."

Roy Mustang was not someone who needed to be told twice.

Instantly, he grabbed at her butt, slapping it once before pulling her cheeks apart as he began to thrust wildly into her. Riza nearly went blind from the pleasure, he was impossibly close to her, it was incredible and the heat and pressure of his thrusts drove her absolutely mad. She was moaning and making noises in a way that she never even knew she could. She gripped onto his shoulders, pulling her arms around his neck as he pounded into her again and again, changing tempo, depth, and speed at random intervals that constantly kept her guessing and kept that incredible orgasm she knew was coming at bay. Just went she thought she'd reach the threshold, he would back off. It's like he knew somehow.

"You get so fucking tight when you're about to cum," he told her lips finding her neck, teeth biting at her skin. "You feel fucking amazing, do you know that?"

Satisfaction vibrated in her skin. She felt like a goddess. She didn't know how to reply so she just kept moaning, kept fucking, and kept enjoying him and his sexy little comments that just heated her up even more.

After a few more deep thrusts, Roy pulled out of Riza entirely, grabbing her waist and pushing her over to the other side of the bed. Confused, Riza almost asked what was going on, until his husky voice said, "Baby, get on your knees."

She did as she was told, ripping off her nightshirt and then getting on her knees on the bed as Roy positioned himself behind her. He ghosted a hand between her legs, using her wetness again to softly play with her clit and with more moans Riza stuck her butt out toward Roy's hips, wanting the friction again. Roy removed his fingers from her clit and used them to pull her butt cheeks apart again, kneading them in his hands, moaning as he mumbled, "You're fucking perfect. I love this ass."

Riza felt a smile cross her face. She had never felt more beautiful than she did when she was like this with Roy – stark naked and basking in the glory of love making. Or – she noted as suddenly his shaft filled her completely in one, incredibly hard and star-seeing thrust – _fucking_.

He fucked her hard and good, her whole body quaking with every thrust he made. She was so close to coming with every motion he made, every way he moved, every word he said. It was all too much. But it was not enough.

"Touch yourself," he told her, still thrusting into her. He almost begged the last words. "_Do it_."

Hesitantly, Riza balanced her upper body weight on one arm and reached her other hand between her legs, finding her clit still swollen and sensitive from Roy's earlier ministrations. She began to circle it, putting pressure where she needed it until she found that sweet spot and suddenly, fuck, ohmygosh, she was coming and coming hard.

"Oh my – fuck-fuck-fuck!" she almost screamed, feeling herself tighten around Roy's shaft until her orgasm poured through her in rippling waves that felt so good it almost turned her to jelly.

Roy still pounded into her, feeling her womanhood tighten around him made the pleasure nearly unbearable. She was shaking underneath his hands, his beautiful Riza, and in that moment he was so glad to have to her, to feel her like this – so utterly vulnerable and open. He would never take advantage of that, he swore. He would forever give her whatever she needed.

And there it was, the blinding white flash, the tension and then suddenly the release. He came into her so hard he swore he almost blacked out.

Together they fell on the bed, in heaps of limbs and love, both incredibly satisfied and happy.

"So, was your dream _anything _like that?" Roy asked after moments of silence and breath-catching.

"Uh-no," Riza admitted, laughing lightly and burrowing her head into his chest shyly. "Wayyyy better."

He kissed her mess of hair. She was beautiful.

His fondest memories of her were like this, when she was flushed with sex and so very open to him. It was there that they spoke of their deepest fears and their biggest dreams. They laid their souls out to one another night after night in that bed, letting each other see the cracks in their spirits and not fearing to be further broken.

If only Roy had known then that what they shared in those sheets was only a dream.

And all dreams must end.


End file.
